There was absolute quiet. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. Anna was afterwards astonished at her own selfpossession. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. Jackson. ’ ‘And if she can’t?’ asked Lucy. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. Impassive by nature and training, he was conscious to-night of a strange sense of excitement, of exhilaration tempered by a dull background of disappointment. His last actions were futile. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air.
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